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The Drug Lord

Filed under: — Ernesto Oporto @ 4:17 PM, April 27, 2014
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The Tears of the Poppy

The flower of the Poppy has the seeds in a pouch. The opium base is harvested by making cuts in the bag to form a tear drop of the liquid inside the pouch. Many more cuts are made on the pouch so the flower produces many tears. Then the tear drops are gathered and formed into a paste

 

The Drug Lord

Introduction

“Most of the Great Fortunes of the 19th and 20th Centuries were Extracted by the Making and the Trafficking of Illicit Goods on the Backs of the Poor and the Hungry.”

Ernesto Victorio Oporto Cortes.

Part 1 – The Boy

 

Chapter 1 – Garbage Picker

 

The Face of Death

Miguel Navarro Noboa

10:13 AM, March 3

I was a young boy when they brought my father home to die.

They lay him down on the only bed in the shack where we lived in El Barrio Sur, in the outskirts of New Maiquetia, Venezuela, right next to the city’s garbage dump.

They had stolen his shirt, pants and shoes. His arms and chest, neck, face, were a mass of white scars from the many wounds he had survived working for his gang. But the one that was killing him was large, deep in his chest, and it was leaking his life blood.

I remember my mother, pale as a wraith, holding him to her bosom, whispering words of love in his last moments, not prayers because God never heard the poor, only the rich. My sister Bella started to cry, desperate, wracking sobs of loss. My brothers, crying in fear of what they could not understand.

That sight stayed with me all my life, as a flame burning hot inside my chest, fueling my ambition, feeding the need to rise higher, always higher, whatever the cost. It is with me today, hotter than ever.

It will still burn hot in my soul after I die.

 

Hiding the Message

Miguel
2:34 PM, April 16, 2079 CE
Caracas, Venezuela, Grand Colombia Confederacy
He had been told to be careful with this message; it was important that it doesn’t get into the hands of a rival gang or the authorities. The first ten minutes of the trip had been uneventful, but after turning a corner and going down one of the main streets, he noticed the tail in the reflection as he stopped in front of a window display.
He could not shake the tail, and then he noticed another suspicious man coming over from a side street. He made a quick decision and went into a clothing store, went behind a clothing display, removed the message from the hole in the boot heel, and started tearing it into pieces, chewing the pieces and swallowing them.

It felt like a stone in his belly; the paper had not been thin and if tasted awful. They were going to catch him, one man had a gun, he could not face him with a nanoknife. He hid the nanoknife among some clothes on a table, he would come back for it if he lived.
He came out of the back door of the store and ran straight into the pair that had been following him, they were grown up men, and one held a flechette gun to his head while the other took his boots.
He experienced a moment of panic, but tamped down on it, he had promises to keep and it was a bad idea to let his fear surface so it could be seen.

They knew exactly where to look, but they found the heel compartment empty. The man hit him over the head with his own boot.
“Hijo de puta, where did you hide the message?”
“I do not know what you are talking about, those are my boots you are taking.”
They searched his pockets, made him strip, found nothing.
“This one was a decoy, we are screwing with him while the other one gets away!” Said the man that behaved like the leader.
His voice sounded urgent; the two men took off, the one that had taken the boots dropped them to the ground so he could run faster. Miguel went over and put the socks and the boots back on and went back to get his nanoknife. There was nothing he could deliver now, so he returned to his boss.

“Somebody informed the Black Spades gang; two men got hold of me; one had a flechette gun to my head so I could not get away. They knew about the hole in the boot.”
“Did they get hold of the message?” asked Mendez.
“When I saw that there were two men following me, I ate the message, it tasted awful.”
“Did you read the message?”
“I did not, they could have tortured me, and never found out what was in the message.”
“How come they didn’t take your nanoknife from you?” he was looking at me with distrust.
“One man had a gun, the knife would not help, so I hid it between some clothes after I ate the message.”
“You did very well,” said Mendez.
“One of them put a flechette gun to my head, I want the one that gave away the information.”
“I think we should make an example of him.” Mendez said.
“Marcelo Gonzales called in sick, that’s why I had to send you. I will make some inquiries.” Said Rosario Farlan, who was in charge of the message boys.

 

Discovering The Traitor

Miguel
10:15 AM, April 17, 2079 CE
Caracas, Venezuela, Grand Colombia Confederacy
Farlan had made his inquiries. Gonzales had been stupid enough to get drunk with expensive liquor, he was brought over to the office by two enforcers.
“Gonzales, where did you get the money to get drunk on whisky?”
“Why is that any of your business?” Gonzales was bluffing.
They tied the man to a chair; hands and feet bound tight. After about and hour of questioning, he broke and spilled all the information. He had been offered one hundred dollars for the information about that particular message, the idiot had accepted.
Manuel asked Gonzales, “Who was after the information?”
“It was the Two Spades gang.”
I asked, “Who, they put a flechette gun to my head. I want the bastard that ordered it.”
“If I tell you they’ll kill me.” Said Gonzales.
I said, “If you do not tell me, I will torture you; you will be begging me to kill you before I am done with you.”
Mendez puts a hand on Miguel’s shoulder, “If you are doing it for revenge, that is not good, it clouds your decisions. If you are doing it to get information, then, is ok.”
“We need the information, Jefe. They could have easily killed me.”
“You’ll never get me to tell.” Sneered Gonzales.
Miguel took a piece of rope and tied his left hand fingers to the arm of the chair; he made sure it was very tight. He took out his nanoknife and using it with the power off started to dig in the traitor’s thumb, inside the nail. Gonzales jumped, giving a primal shout of pain, he peed his pants. Miguel slipped the point of the nanoknife farther in, snot, and tears was coming out of his face. He bit his tongue and blood started to come out of his mouth.
“Stop! Stop! It was Orlando Jerez, he knew about the boot.”
“Who told him about the boot?” asked Farlan.
“I did, I did, stop digging, please!”
“Can I have him?”
“Miguel, revenge always ends badly, we’ll just deposit his body in the central plaza”
“Ok, but I think we should go after Jerez.“
“That is a decision for the Padrino to make.”
Miguel just turned away from the group and left the room. All he knew was that he needed to carry a flechette gun.

He did not have the money, so he would have to take it from somebody else. Miguel remembered the face of the man that had put the flechette gun against his head. Maybe he could get it from him.
But if the man saw him first he was going to die.

 

Taking Care Of Disputes

Miguel
5:45 PM, April 29, 2084 CE
Caracas, Venezuela, Grand Colombia Confederacy
He had received a message to come over and see Mendez about a dispute.
“Miguel, I wanted to see you because two of your couriers got into a dispute and started to use their knives on each other. They suffered minor cuts, but we can’t afford this type of problem.”
“Since when they are my problem, they belong to Rosario Farlan, he is in charge of communications.”
“Rosario said that you are in charge of Security so you should take care of it.”
“But Julio Fernandez is in charge of Security.”
“You know that Julio expects you to handle the couriers, they are your headache until I say otherwise.” Said Mendez.
“Well, those sons of bitches are going to pay for this, I will start with the resolution of the dispute, but don’t complain if some Jefes start grousing that I am taking things too far.”
“Just take care of it, I’m too busy and the Jefes are too busy, it’s your job to enforce discipline on them.”
“You know that the Military Police in the USA, the MPs are hated by their Marines? They say that they ruin their shore leave.”
“You can afford a few people hating you. Now go and do your job. The two culprits are in separate rooms; the Secretary will show you.”
“Where are Teodoro and Lorenzo?” I asked the secretary.
“Teodoro in Room 12 and Lorenzo in 13.”
I walked down the corridor and started with room 12. “You stupid, imbecile, idiot, you made me look bad in front of the Jefe Farlan, and worst, the Jefe Mendez. Stand up at attention, you fucked idiot!”
I was standing with my nose in front of his face, shouting at the top of my voice; I was incensed by what they had done.
“I don’t work for you, I report to Jefe Farlan.”
I hit him hard on the stomach; he doubled up, gasping for air.
“You are mine! Jefe Mendez just gave you to me. You are now on my shit list. I am going to make you regret those words and the fight with Lorenzo.”
He stood up; he was not at attention. I kicked him in the balls; he tried to make himself into a tight ball of pain, but I punched him on the right face. He went down on the floor, so I kicked him in the ribs. “Get up you moron!”
This time he stood at attention; his right cheek went to sport a big red bruise for a few days. “You better think about what you have done! You are going to be very sorry about fighting with knives.”
I went into Room 13. Lorenzo must have heard some of the commotions because he was standing at attention, rigid, waiting for his punishment. I just punched him in the face and the kneed him in the balls. “You do not fight each other with knives! You are a good for nothing moron. A disgrace to the corps of messengers. You have me look bad, and I am going to make you pay, mainly because you did not use your brains, stupid idiot!”
I took both boys to the Head Housekeeper, “You have the help of these two low life morons for two weeks, they are to clean toilets. Your staff can clean everything else, but these two idiots are going to clean all the toilets. Send them back to me in two weeks.”
The next morning I saw a marked improvement in the way the exercises and training were being conducted by the messengers. They were moving much faster.

 

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